A Time Unprepared
by BrokenNarsil16
Summary: Young Trunks has reached SS2. But not entirely on his own. Piccollo has discovered a secret about the former hyperbolic time chamber. Vegeta pov.


Dragon Ball Z - A Time Unprepared 

Chapter 1 - The Final First

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.

* * *

How long has it been? Years on end, I have wandred, searching. For what, I am yet to remember, but I know it is there, waiting. Like an unknown stranger, standing in the doorway, I ask questions. But he answers only in spats, his voice thin, and his mind a jumble. 'Who are you?' 'Who am I?' 'Why are you here?' 'Why am I here?' Confusion reigns, as the world spins. Time has no meaning.

My Saiyan blood is strong, I feel its power, its energy surging through me as I fight harder and harder. But still I don't know why. There has to be something better! This can't be it! That fool of a fellow Saiyan has already gone higher...why can't I! Still, why persist? There is no real meaning to my torment...my fear.

That's it, isn't it? I'm afraid. Afraid of what may happen if I slip. What if another surpasses me? I can handle Kakarott, but none other. His child, the half-breed, Gohan. He did it, but I rose above him again. What if it's the Namek this time? Or even my own son? I could never face myself, knowing I let go. So that's why I continue to stretch the breaking point of my body and mind...day after day.

But I enjoy it, don't I? It's what Saiyans were made for. We are the elite warrior race! Since ages long forgotten, we have trained harder than any other, for the sole purpose of war. It is my royal Saiyan blood that fuels my burning desire for mayhem and destruction. I will overcome him! I will finally surpass my low-born brethren, and achieve the next level of Super Saiyan!

* * *

Consciousness again enters my being, as my meditative state dissipates. Realizing my surroundings, I find that I am quite in the need of a meal. How long has it been? How long have I been out? Days? Weeks? It doesn't matter...my goal is again in focus. I had lost if for some time, but now, I can see again, as clear as if wiping the fog from a window.

"I'm hungry, woman. What do you have to eat?" I really don't feel like my usual self, but like an excited child, nearing the day of some great treat. Bulma looks at me with an odd eye, almost relieved, before scampering about the kitchen a bit, then setting a plate in front of me.

"So where have you been for the past week, Vegeta?" So it's been a week, has it? Meditation always seems to come and go in spats where time is nonexistant. I don't really feel much like talking.

"Training." It's a worthy excuse, and not really a lie. But what do I have to explain to her? She knows I have but three interests: fighting, training to fight, and my family.

"Why don't you at least come up to eat once in a while? I was getting worried." She sat at the table next to me, and I could see in her eyes a genuine distress.

"I was...meditating. I lost track of myself. But now I have realized my purpose yet again! I will train harder than ever, and finally surpass Kakarott!" I stood, having inhaled my meal, and prepared to re-enter my training chamber.

"Vegeta, wait," Bulma said, just before I rounded the corner. I stopped, wanting to hear what she had to say, "Trunks has been worried too. Please try to remember that you have responsibility now, a family. You've been chasing some dream to be stronger that Goku since you arrived on this planet. Why can't you just try to be his ally, and realize that you are second only to him. And he has no desire to fight you...he's the kind of person that, if it would truly ease your mind, he'd let you be stronger than him if he could. I'm not asking you to give up training and fighting, just please sort your priorities...and go visit your son."

Her words angered me, for a moment. How dare she stir again what I had worked for so long to remember. I do know and interact with my family. Kakarott is an occupation of mine, as a goal, a task...my work to overcome him is the sole thing that keeps me sane.

But she had a point. Despite my proud Saiyan blood, I still loved my son, "Where is he?" I asked, before I left the room.

"He's outside, training with Goten." Bulma smiled, knowing she had won. I didn't fret over it, but exited the Capsule Corp. building. As soon as I walked outside, an energy blast came within an inch of hitting me. My reflexes flicked it aside, but it would have done considerable damage to the building, had I not been there.

"Trunks!" I yelled, planning to scold the child for such a foolish error in his aim. He and Kakarott's youngest child flew down, both looking ashamed.

"Sorry, dad. I should've watched before I threw it."

"And I should have caught it." They stood, with their heads down, awaiting punishment.

"Next time, I won't be walking out the door. Do not let it happen again." I still wasn't in the mood for being harsh, especially since I hadn't seen my son in a week.

"Yes sir!" They both said.

"So where've you been, dad?" Trunks asked, knowing he was out of trouble.

"Training. As you should have been doing." I returned.

"But we were, sir." Goten said, wearing a confused look similar to the one Kakarott so easily acquired.

"That wasn't training! That was playing!" I spoke, having noticed the severe lack of effort in what they were doing.

"But we're tired. We've been at it all day." Trunks said, then shut up, remembering my attitude towards excuses.

"I've been at it all week! And in a few hours, I'm going to go at it again! Your bodies and minds may be tired, but as long as you're breathing, you are able! Now finish up, and come inside, Trunks." I turned and walked back into the building.

"My dad says you should rest when you're tired. If you don't, you can hurt yourself." Goten said, as they took off for another round.

"Well my dad thinks that as long as you can breathe, you can train." Trunks said, dropping into stance. I heard them exchanging blows outside, as I took a seat in my chair.

"Those two have been doing that all day, every day, for three days," Bulma said, coming and sitting next to me, "don't you think you were a little hard on them?"

"They're both Super Saiyans. By the time I reached that level, I could train for weeks on end...and I did." I didn't want to hear any excuses about the duration of training. If anyone knew the rigors of pushing your body beyond the breaking point, it was me.

"But they're children. Their bodies aren't fully developed yet. It's alright for you to kill yourself all day, you're a grown man. But they're not." Bulma looked outside the window, watching them flit back and forth, punching, kicking and sweating.

"How else are they going to grow up? Since I can remember, I have been made to fight. My father pushed me harder than I ever knew, as his father had done for him. And now my son shall carry the legacy of the Saiyan race, and when I am old, and dying, he shall be stronger than I ever was. But he has to start now." It wasn't pleasant, thinking of old age, but it was inevitable. Though I would fight it as hard as I could.

"It's pointless to argue with you," Bulma said, turning on the television, "let's just drop it." I sat, as she flipped through the channels, at a rate even a Saiyan would find hard to keep up with. I wondered how she could know what was going on on the channel, if she changed it so fast. Another enigma of Earth.

"I'm finished, dad!" Trunks ran into the house, drying his face with a towel. He came and sat across from me, still breathing heavily. Ten years old, already. Time had flown since he was born.

"Your mother tells me you have been training all week as well. That is good." I said, standing, "Come with me."

"Where you going?" He asked, standing as well.

"To my gravity room." He said nothing, knowing his dicipline well, but I could see the exhaustion in his eyes. We made our way down the corridor, and into the room. I turned the power on, and the familiar buzz of electricity filled the air.

"What are we gonna do here, dad?" Trunks asked, following me to the back.

"Meditate. You don't know how, do you?" I saw the worry in his face dissapear. A shame that my own heir should be so worried over training.

"No." He followed into a dark room, where we sat.

"Now, open your mind. At first there will be thoughts, many of them. Just let them play through. When they are gone, you will be empty. This is the desired state. Concentrate on a problem you have, look at it in every aspect your empty mind can give you. Soon, you will be Tranquil." I could feel his power level relax. Slowly, it began to grow stronger, but remain calm. This is the effect meditation has on a warrior who can control ki. The Namek has an immensely powerful mind strength, because of this.

I was not going to meditate. My problems had been sorted out, and I was at peace mentally. But my physical power was slacking, I could feel it. So I rose, and went into the next room. I sealed the door to the meditation chamber, which Dr. Brief had modified to block any and all sound from without. I could stand just outside and scream, and a person just on the other side would not hear it.

I powered up the gravity simulator. A lightweight four-hundred times normal gravity would be my warmup. I did the usual, pushups, situps, droid training. In an hour, I notched it up to five-hundred and fifty. I did resistance punches and kicks, and practiced focusing my ki.

Exercize after excersize, I honed my abilities. Each hour, I notched up the gravity by fifty. In about four hours, the door to the meditation room opened. Trunks steped out.

"Wow, I feel so much better." He said, stretching his limbs.

"It focuses your mental energy, and removes the clutter from your brain." I answered, stopping my excersize.

"Hey dad," Trunks said, "Goten told me that tomorrow, everybody is gonna get together and celebrate Krillin's birthday. He said we all are invited. Are you gonna go?"

I had no time for foolish celebrations. But Kakarott would be there, and perhaps even the Namek. It would be a good chance to gauge their power, "Yes son. I will go. Perhaps I can get a fight out of Kakarott."

"Great." He headed for the door, "Um, am I through?"

"For today. But tomorrow you will train with me. And it won't be any foolishness with children. This is going to be real."

* * *

Just as the sun was beginning to peek over the hills, the phone rang. Bulma rolled over and picked it up, somewhat agitated at being distrubed from her slumber. She talked for a while, before hanging up and looking over at me.

"That was Roshi. He wanted to make sure we were coming today." She yawned, and something inside me warmed to the attractiveness of her.

"Why call so early?" I asked, also sitting up.

"Well, it's a surprise party, and we're going to have to start getting everything together today in time for lunch." She rose and dressed, and I did the same. My stomach fell when I saw my closet. I actually had about six outfits which served no purpose other than to look fashonable. Ten years ago, and my closet would have been full of nothing but training gis, and clothes which surved a purpose.

"How old is the cueball today?" I asked, feeling rather aged.

"Forty. It makes me feel so old. I'm nearly forty six now." She smiled, despite it all, and I knew I had fallen into weakness, however strong my body and mind were.

"I'm over fifty." Saiyans do not age so readily as humans, and technically I was at my prime. But I still felt a painful stab when I saw what my warrior life had fallen into. When first it happened, some years ago, I had done something radical. I let myself become infected with Babidi's magic, and revolted against my new life of family. And truthfully, it was fun. I killed again, and fought again without anything holding me back. I fought with Kakarott and gave it all I had, without the slightest tinge of regret. It was freedom. But now, just as it was then, when I looked at my son, and my wife, I knew that I loved them.

"Vegeta? What's wrong? You're zoning out." Bulma placed her hand on my shoulder, and I came to. I selected an outfit that actually had a purpose, just for the hell of it, and put it on.

"Don't even say it," I said, before she could remark about my clothes, "I know we're going to a party and not a fighting match. But you never know what's going to happen."

"I wasn't going to say a word. And don't talk like that. There's no telling how many fun occations have been ruined for us by something horrible. It's like we're tempting God to have fun." She went into the bathroom to do what women do to their face and hair, and I went to wake Trunks.

Down the hall and to the right was his door, and I opened it. He wasn't in his room. I looked around, but he wasn't there. It was odd, and I wondered where he could be. Perhaps he left early to go to visit Kakarott's son. Or maybe he was around the house somewhere. Just then, I sensed his power level go throught the roof. He had just gone Super Saiyan.

* * *

I could hear screams even down the hall. When I pressed the button that opened the door, I was pleasently surprised. There stood Trunks, dripping sweat and tattered garments. I looked to the monitoring panel, and saw that he had the gravity set at three hundred times. A very impressive workout, that.

"Dad!" He stammered when he saw me, and nearly fell from the intense pull, "I'm sorry about not asking if I could come in here, but I thought I'd get a head start on training, and you said we were going to, so I thought I'd warm up and get ready for your kind of training, which will probably be a lot worse than this, but I'm really sorry I didn't ask, and"

He would have said more if I didn't cut him off, "No apologies are nescesary. You'll find me very tolerable when you're doing what you're supposed to be doing. But we don't have a lot of time for training this morning, the party is at lunch." Nevertheless, I entered and closed the door behind me, "How much gravity can you take?"

"I don't know. This is as much as I've tried, and only at Super Saiyan." He could move freely, but when working for a while, he tired quickly at it.

"Let's see what you can do about another hundred." I notched the gravity up to four hundred, and waited for it to kick in. I saw Trunks's muscles tense, and felt his power level boost to compensate. He moved a bit stiff, but was relatively fine. I was truly impressed.

"This is tough, dad. But I think I can do it." He began doing some punching and kicking excersizes, yet his power was dropping fast. But I knew the only way to train Super Saiyan power is to train while a Super Saiyan, and I thought it time for him to push the envelope more.

"Alright son, we're going to spar. Every five hits I land on you, and the gravity goes up by five, understand?" I dropped into stance, and watched him do the same.

"Okay, I'll try." He prepared to charge.

"You'll do more than that if I can help it." I went at him, jabbing with my left. He managed to evade, but my foot caught him in his middle. He staggered, but came back fast, and was on me. I had to do a good deal of blocking and dodging myslef to avoid catching a mouthful of fist. But I grew tired of the game and flipped behind him. I caught his arm and flung him into the air. He spun to regain his bearing, but my fist was against his cheek before he could come about.

He hit the floor with a thud. That made two hits. I could have given him a hundred the way he was acting, but I was going to take it a little easy, due to the gravity strain on him, "Come on, son. Forget about the pull of the gravity. Just look at it like you're wearing heavy clothes."

He said nothing, but charged, and I could tell he had redoubled his efforts. This was the fighting that accomplished things. Kakarott's first boy only reached Super Saiyan after letting everything go and giving absolutely all he had, and then some. Trunks was already a Super Saiyan, but if he was going to go beyond, he needed real fire under his ass, and I meant to give it to him.

Three, four! An uppercut and a knee made the third and fourth hits. He had carelessly forgotten to anticipate when he charged out of anger. But I proved not invincible myself, as I soon found a little fist under my jaw. Good hit, I had to give it to him. But it was time for more, so I poured into it again.

A solid two hours, we played the game, and the gravity managed to reach four hundred and fifty. We still had three hours before we had to leave, but Trunks was completely exhausted. He had become a punching bag, barely standing against the strain of the gravity. His very eyes drooped under his exhaustion.

"Let's finish up for now. We'll go more this evening." I moved to turn off the gravity, but I felt his power spike again. I turned to face my son.

"No. I'm not...done with you, dad. I only landed...nine hits. I'm going to get...TEN!" His power blasted from his body, and golden light filled the air. I was nearly blinded by his burst. Yet I could see the change, however brief. His young muscles bulged, and his hair spiked. The pure power of his rage manifested into streaks of electricity flowing about him. Before I even knew what had happened, I felt his fist in my gut. My body doubled over, and flew into the wall. I was far more surprised than damaged, and I watched Trunks drop to his knees and lose his Super Saiyan level, fast asleep.

* * *

He had sleapt for the entire three hours, and a little more. I knew how tired he was, but had to wake him, "Trunks, get up. We have to go to that party."

He staggered to his feet, and followed me to the air car. I figured he could sleep some more on the way. I was feeling very generous about him. I had witnissed it with my own eyes, after all. Unless I was completely mistaken, that was the second level of Super Saiyan that Trunks had reached.

* * *

"Hey, look who's here!" It was Kakarott. He greeted us with the usual smile, and idiotic glee that was his trademark, "What's wrong, Trunks? Didn't sleep last night?"

"Yes. I'm just tired." He rubbed his eyes and looked around for Goten.

"Unlike you lax fools, we have been training all morning. Trunks has quite the knack for it. His Saiyan blood is strong." I wouldn't tell his little secret, not now at least. I'd wait until the perfect moment, and let them all have the surprise of their lives.

"Well some things are more important than training, Vegeta," It was Bulma. She had left early and helped, while we trained, "like your friends. I was counting on you to help me with some of this."

"Haven't you learned anything about Vegeta, Bulma?" Roshi asked, "His mind is focused on nothing but fighting. I'm surprised you came, but you're welcome here, anytime. Just don't kill anybody." The latter of his words were directed at me. It looked like the whole crew was here. Kakarott and his family, Gohan's girlfriend, the Nameks, that weakling Yamcha, the pig, cat, and turtle.

"So, when is the bithday man gonna get here?" Kakarott asked, looking towards the sky.

"At lunch, Goku. 18 and Marron are going to let on like it's buisness, and bring him here." Bulma obviously had the whole thing figured, so I didn't have to be around. Snatching a cup of drink from a table, I headed to the other side of the house, and sat in the shade. Piccollo was meditating in the air, just above the surf. I couldn't understand how he could do that all day, every day. It had its useful points, but a boring excersize nonetheless.

"I felt Trunks's power surge from here," The Namek said, "Very impressive."

"Yes, it was. After all, when your father is a Saiyan, you have no choice but to be mighty." I let myself take a little credit for the accomplishment. After all, I was the one who pushed him.

"Sure, Vegeta." The Namek returned to his concentration, and I turned to go back up front, "Wait, one more thing."

"What is it?" I asked, hoping somewhat that he would challenge me to a fight.

"There's something I need to discuss with you, later. It's an important find, and if my guess is right, it could mean some big changes." He always had been good at leaving cliff-hangers.

"And you don't want to talk about it now?" I asked, since we had around twenty minuets to spare.

"No. But don't mention it to anyone yet, especially Trunks and Goten." I left him then, knowing he wasn't going to talk. About that time, I heard the sould of an airship approaching. It seemed the cueball was going to be early.

"Hey, here he comes, guys!" Roshi said, motioning for everyone to get inside. Piccollo and I entered through the back door, and stood waiting with the rest of the surprise team. What a foolish thing, these parties.

The ship landed, and out came Krillin and his family. Roshi greeted them at the door, and bid them enter. As the cueball stepped through the door, the room erupted with cheers and horns and colored strings flying about. What nonsense.

"Happy Birthday!" eveyone shouted at once, save for myslef and the Namek. I think he was as sickened as I was about the whole deal.

"Wow, you guys." Krillin said, blushing foolishly, "Thanks. I thought my family had forgotten about me."

"No, daddy." Marron said, "We just had to get you here, first."

"Yes, happy birthday, Krillin." 18 said, giving him a small kiss. I never would see the compatability there.

"Alright, guys. Let's eat a birthday feast!" Kakarott yelled, leading Krillin to his spot at the head of table. Bulma slapped a party hat on his head, and everyone sat down to eat.

* * *

The party had died down, presents were given along with much felloship and conversation. The boys were out front, swimming, Piccollo was back to his meditation, and everyone else was with Krillin in the house. I walked about aimlessly, wondering what that Namek had to tell me. It had better be good, or I could've left long ago and started my training.

"Vegeta." I turned to see the Namek, standing a few feet away, and knew it was time.

"Finally," I said, "Now what is it?" I leaned against the wall, and prepared to listen.

"Well, I'm not sure how to explain, so I'll just start from the top. You remember the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, right?" He asked.

"Of course I do. You and Gotenks destroyed it." The initial anger that I had felt when confronted with the news came back a little. No more 'good' training.

"Yes. I blew up the door, sealing off that dimension from this one. But when Buu got mad enough, his power ripped a hole in it, and spat him back here. Gotenks did the same, when he powered into Super Saiyan 3."

"So what's your point? I don't need a history lesson."

"Of course. Anyway, the properties of that dimension were never fully known to anyone. And I believe I've found a loophole."

"Loophole to what?" I asked, trying not to let my hopes get up of being able to go back into the chamber.

"I was training one time, about a year ago. I trained for a full month, and all the while I felt a little light-headed. I took this for being tired however, and continued. When I stopped, I decided to go to Kami's Lookout and see everyone. When I arrived, everyone said that I hadn't been gone but two days. They wondered at my vast power gain, and my damage from training. That's when I started to figure it all out."

"Figure what out? Dende has a sorry sense of time?" I asked, trying not to buy into what he was saying, though I understood it full well.

"No, Vegeta. You know what I'm talking about, I can see it in your face. You are proud of Trunks for his new level, but you know he couldn't have jumped so far so soon. You know what's going on, just as much as I."

"So, you're saying that...you and Trunks are somehow able to go into the time chamber, even though it was destroyed?" I asked.

"Something like that. When the chamber was destroyed, the dimensions shifted. And when we broke out, it collapsed entirely. Trunks, Goten, Buu and myself were in the chamber when that happened. When training at the same power level we held when it was destroyed, our bodies re-enter the dimesion of the chamber, and our time for training is distorted in the view of this plane of existance. So basically, we can train for a year, while only a day has passed to everyone else." I couldn't believe his words. How could such a gift so precious be given to them? If it was true, they had the potential for limitless power. Curse my luck that I had to miss out on such an oppertunity.

"And that is how Trunks managed to reach Super Saiyan 2. While training with Kakarott's boy, they entered the time of the old chamber." I finally understood, though the agony of it was so great.

"Yes. I know what you're thinking now Vegeta, and I advise against such notions. When the chamber existed we dared not go in for more than two years. There had to be a reason for that, and I'm not fond of trying to find out what it is. I'm not going to train at that power level any more. And I suggest you tell Trunks not to either. He shouldn't be affected, since he has only been in there a few hours, but it's still a touchy situation."

"There is no way I'm going to let this chance slip away for my son! He has a gifted stroke of luck in his favor, and I'm going to see it out to the fullest. He will surpass everyone else, and I will be able to call him my son!" The true blessing here was clear to me. No paranoid Namek was going to snatch it away. Yet before we could continue, I felt the presence of another. Turning, I saw Kakarott.

"So guys," He said, his face lacking the usual absent-minded freedom, "when were you planning on warning me about this?" Clearly, he had heard our words.

"When the party was over," Piccollo said, "I know how much you enjoy bieng around everyone."

"Thanks Piccollo. But this is serious. Goten has been training hard too, though he isn't quite as far along as Trunks, from what I hear." He gave me a smirk, letting me know that he knew about my son's transformation. That secret was blown away as well, "and I don't want him going into that dimension either."

"It may not even be dangerous," The Namek said, "but just to be safe, I'd not recommend training at that level."

"Hey guys!" Krillin's voice was heard, loud and clear, "telling secrets without me?" he said with his foolish grin.

"Nothing secret, shorty. But nothing that would interest you." I said, patting him on the shoulder and going back inside for more drink. The three of them stood about for a while longer. Going outside again, I watched Trunks and Goten play. They splashed about in the waves and ran around in the sand. So carefree and young, yet already so powerful. I could truly say that I was proud of my son.

* * *

Note: What a development, ne? R&R please and tell me what you think. I don't care what you have to say, just say it so I can know where my strengths and weaknesses are in this! Later! 


End file.
